


Gone Rotten

by Hera_Sith



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: F/M, Happy ending (for some), Joker's lost without Harley, Not for the henchman, Shameless BTAS quoting, Suicide Squad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 00:41:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7663450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hera_Sith/pseuds/Hera_Sith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joker decides to intercept the armored car taking Harley back to Belle Reve. Because everyone knows The Joker's lost without his Harley.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gone Rotten

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at this pairing after being in love with them since BTAS. The new Suicide Squad trailers and clips made me fall in love with Leto's Joker and hopefully I did his character some justice. The movie hasn't yet come out in my country, so this will most likely be an AU after this Friday. Happy reading!

The mirror taunts him, glaring back with not even a hint of a smile. His platinum roots are beginning to grow in, the shocking green shade he dyes his hair fading to a greenish yellow. He didn’t even bother putting on his famed red grin, deciding instead to simply let his natural reddish pink lips have their time to shine. The black ink forming the word “Damaged” across his forehead has never been more accurate. 

“Boss? We found her,” one of his henchmen hesitantly calls from the other side of the door, obviously having chosen the shortest straw to have to come and deal with the Joker’s infamous dark mood. Before his and Harley’s separation, they were becoming few and far in between. Ever since Batsy captured her again and they decided to screw Arkham in favor of Belle Reve, all days were dark mood days. 

The Joker picks up his gun from the vanity and immediately starts firing at the door, unloading the magazine hastily to form a frown face. As soon as the blood begins seeping through the crack of the door, he realizes the henchman hadn’t moved away in time. Better he’s dead really, wouldn’t do to have a henchman who couldn’t even keep himself alive inside headquarters. 

He throws the pistol back onto the vanity, stalking out of the room and stepping over the corpse as he makes his way down the hallway to the main room, forgoing wearing anything past his satin red and black boxers. 

He throws the door open, doorknob slamming through the opposite wall with the force used. Everyone immediately ceases whatever activity they were in the middle of, taking in the state of their boss, complete with blood staining the bottom of his feet. 

“You found her?” he sing-songs, fully entering the room. Even wearing nothing but his underwear, he is still the most intimidating figure in the room. 

“Y-yes, boss,” one of the men affirms quickly, likely not wanting him to have to wait for an answer. They all know how much he hates waiting for the punchline. 

The Joker immediately stalks up to the man, a young kid probably in his mid-twenties, who’s most probably having trouble not wetting himself when gifted with Joker’s full attention, “Well? Are you going to tell me where she is, or am I going to have to torture it out of you?” he slaps the man’s cheek just hard enough to cause a red mark, a clear warning that he’s not in the mood for forestalling of any kind. 

“She’s en route back to Belle Reve, sir. The mission only shortened her sentence—she’s still got time left,” one of the senior henchmen replies for the younger. 

Joker slowly smiles, shaking his head as he pats the young man’s cheek, “Now, now, your voice sounds mighty different. So either someone spoke out of turn,” he glances at the older before his eyes dart back to the younger, “or we’ve got another ventriloquist on our hands. Sorry to tell you, but that joke’s already been told.” He grips the younger’s hair and rips his head back, baring the man’s neck to him. He slowly leans down until his mouth is brushing the young man’s ear, “I hate dried up acts.” 

He immediately kicks the man’s chair, the leg giving out with a loud crack. The Joker proceeds to use his bloodied foot to suffocate the man until just before death, finally releasing him at the last possible moment, “I expect you to find some new material.” 

The rest of the henchmen simply look on, used to this amount of violence after years of working for the clown. He simply needed to learn his place. 

“Now,” Joker claps his hands together, turning around and walking to the older man, “tell me more.” 

“She’s currently in an armored car along with Floyd Lawton, alias Deadshot, and Waylon Jones, alias Killer Croc. They’re travelling back to Belle Reve, where they will be put back into their cells to finish their sentences,” the older lists off, obviously having had to do so earlier, presumably to the dead henchman currently outside Joker’s room. 

While the older man towers over Joker by a good six inches, it is clear who’s in command. Joker takes hold of the henchman’s collar and pulls him down to his level, “Next time, tell me directly instead of sending some inferior to do your job for you, or I promise you won’t enjoy the punchline.” 

“Yes, sir,” the man replies simply, allowing Joker to manhandle him without complaint. Joker releases him before turning on his heel and walking quickly out of the room, leaving a trail of bloody footprints in his wake where the blood still hadn’t dried on the soles of his feet.

“Get the cars ready!” he hisses behind him as he leaves. 

Everyone immediately springs into action, grabbing guns, ammo, explosives, Joker Venom, and the device Joker tortured the doctor for earlier. He wouldn’t go through all this trouble just to have Harley get exploded by the chip in her neck. 

Knowing he doesn’t have enough time to salvage his hair, Joker smears kohl over his eyes, then proceeds to smudge it with his fingers until it’s encircling them. He then grabs the red lipstick and smears it on a bit too thick. Next, hair gel is run through his fingers and into his hair, slicking it out of his face. He slowly uses his thumb and middle finger to push his lips into a grin, then his pointer finger to show off what’s left of his teeth. He then closes his mouth on his finger and pulls it out with a popping sound to ensure no lipstick gets on his teeth. 

Nothing’s worse than a ruined smile. 

He quickly puts on a white silk button down complete with shoulder holsters, matching it with a gold and black suit coat and black slacks, finishing off the look with spiked gold tuxedo shoes and one purple glove. He grabs his personalized pistol off the vanity and reloads it, settling it in place before exiting the room hastily. 

Once he reaches the van outside, he takes note that the entire back is filled with weapons and Joker Venom, all in different shapes, sizes, and forms so they could adapt to virtually anything. 

“This is the deactivator, Mr. Joker,” the older henchman from before announces, holding out a handgun-sized device to him which he immediately takes and places into his free holster, “and this is the GPS locating Ms. Quinn.” 

“Well? Get moving! Don’t screw it all up!” He hops out of the van, hitting the top of it as he goes three times, one of the henchmen throwing him his keys before closing the door and peeling out like the Batman’s on their bumper. 

Joker immediately goes to his car, about to get in when he spots the motorcycle--the one Harley had used all those years ago to catch up to him right before he had taken her to   
ACE Chemicals. 

Well, that’s a neat punchline. 

He swings a leg over the motorcycle, hot wiring it easily before revving the engine and giving it gas, GPS propped up against the handlebars. He swerves in between oncoming traffic, doesn’t pay any attention to green or red lights. At one memorable moment, he decides to veer onto the sidewalk, laughing manically as one man doesn’t get out of the way in time and the sound of bone popping reverberates in his ears. 

When he arrives on scene, the armored car is flipped on its side and Joker Venom permeates through the air, the two drivers already wearing their best smiles upon death. The surrounding squad cars are engaged in a shoot-out with his henchmen, though they’re quickly losing. 

“Oh, I just love a good circus!” he exclaims happily as he gets off the motorcycle and draws his pistol. He goes about firing off a few shots toward the cars, one actually landing straight into an officer’s left eye. She goes down immediately. 

Allowing the others to do the work to keep the officers busy, he strides over to the armored car, the young henchman from earlier working on breaking the lock. As soon as he gets there, he clicks his tongue, knocking Shave and a Haircut on the door while raising his nonexistent eyebrows, smile painted on his face as he waits for a response. 

When Two Bits is knocked back, the smile turns genuine, his eyes getting that shine which only appears in the presence of Harley. 

“Hurry up, kiddo. We don’t want those nasty officers’ backup coming before you can pick a lock now, do we?” he says, voice hinting at an underlying warning as he grips the young henchman’s shoulder tightly. 

“No, Mister Joker, sir. I’ve almost got it…” he responds almost shyly, not daring to look the Joker in the eye. 

A couple shots land at Joker’s feet, bullets ricocheting off the pavement as he takes a step sideways. 

“Got it!” the young man exclaims, pulling the door open and handing Joker the bag full of tools to deal with getting the chains no doubt around Harley off. 

“There may be hope for you yet,” Joker rewards him with, patting his shoulder before using it as a boost to step into the overturned vehicle, bullets hitting it every so often. 

As soon as he sees her sitting there, the wattage of his smile goes up tenfold, “Harley girl! I hope you had a good vacation—Daddy’s here to take you home.” 

He proceeds to pull her into an upright position and take the sack off her head, beaming brightly at her as he holds the hand with all the suits but hearts up to her cheek, allowing the heart on her cheek to fill in that particular gap. 

She looks up at him, the eyebrow with a chunk missing raising as she takes in his appearance, “Mistah J, I thought you said, and I quote, ‘To hell with you.’” 

“Oh you know I didn’t mean it, Harl. Besides, you and your little team finished your playdate.” 

“We’re sitting right here, y’know,” Floyd reminds him sarcastically, rolling his eyes underneath the sack. Waylon simply growls since he has the Hannibal mask blocking his mouth. 

“Oh, how could I forget?” Joker’s smile immediately turns strained, the one used for everyone but Harley taking over his features even though the other two cannot see him, “The   
people eater and the marksman…” he steps up to Deadshot, ripping the sack off his head as he gets close to his face, “You missed me, by the way!” He steps back, dropping the bag his henchman gave him by Harley’s feet, “You hit Johnny boy, though. We painted the town red!” he cackles, holding his sides as the laugh is let loose. 

“You’re a sick bastard,” Floyd comments, a disgusted look on his face. Waylon growls his agreement. 

“You tried to kill Mistah J?!” Harley roars, “I thought you said you let him get away!” 

“Don’t be too mad at him, Pumpkin Pie, he did save you after all,” Joker tsks, wagging his finger at Harley in admonishment. 

“Boss! We gotta get outta here!” one of his henchmen yells at him through the open door before running back into the thick of the fighting. 

“You heard the man. I’m sorry to disappoint, gentlemen, but I have a Harley in need of rescuing!” with that, he kneels next to Harley, taking out the bomb diffuser from his holster and holding it to her neck in the right place, “I’m not gonna lie, I’m gonna hurt ya. But at least you won’t go exploding all over the new carpets.” 

He pulls the trigger, the device ripping the bomb out of her neck and into the diffuser chamber, taking a chunk of skin along with it. Harley cries out in pain, struggling against her bonds as she whines, “Least ya didn’t lie to me.” 

“Of course not,” Joker allows as he takes the chain bolt cutter out of the bag and proceeds to free Harley from her bonds. 

She immediately slaps him hard across the face. 

“Dammit, Harley, what the fuck was that for?!” Joker hisses, eyes betraying his surprise at her slapping him. She’d never done anything like that before. Usually it was the other way around. 

“That was for pushing me outta the helicopter,” she reveals, rubbing her sore neck as she stands. She then grabs onto his lapels and pulls him to her, kissing him soundly, allowing his red lipstick to stain her own lips and smear down his chin. 

“And that was for saving me,” she says as she pulls back, smiling widely at him with adoration in her eyes. 

“You two are crazy, has anyone ever told you that?” Floyd asks, his eyebrows creased together as he watches the exchange. 

“We prefer 'psychotic clowns,' but the thought’s still there,” Harley replies happily, releasing the lapels of his suit jacket as he picks up the bag once more. 

Joker throws the diffuser gun on the ground in between the two along with the bolt cutters, “I’m feeling generous today, but don’t get confused. You two owe me—and I will be around to collect. Daddy never forgets his debts, huh Harl?” 

“Nope! Mistah J never forgets anything!” she announces giddily, pride radiating in her eyes as she looks at Joker. She had begged him to help them out earlier to no avail; he hadn’t wanted anything to do with her friends. However, now he was doing so as a way to apologize to her, something he’d never done before. Perhaps almost losing her was a wakeup call of sorts? 

“C’mon, Harl, before I change my mind. We have some chaos to create!” he jumps out the door, immediately pulling out his pistol and shooting randomly around him, the true embodiment of chaos and all it stands for. 

“Buh-bye guys! Good luck and don’t forget to stay in touch!” Harley calls out as she follows Joker, a henchman immediately passing her a gun to play with as she joins the foray. 

“Playtime’s over kiddies! Everyone get in the minivan!” Joker calls as he heads toward the motorcycle, Harley close behind. The rest of the henchmen provide cover fire, though they begin to move back toward their own vehicles. 

As soon as Harley sees the motorcycle, her eyes widen, smile lighting up her face as she bounces from foot to foot, “I didn’t know you kept that!” a moment passes as the punchline becomes clear, “Oh, Puddin’, you’re so clever!” 

“Don’t you forget it,” he warns her, straddling the motorcycle as he once again hotwires it, Harley climbing on the back with him. 

“Never will,” she promises, crossing her heart before reaching her arms around his middle and resting her chin on his shoulder. 

“Keep your mouth closed—you’re gonna catch flies,” he warns her before speeding off, the sound of gunshots and sirens getting quieter as they haul ass back to headquarters. 

Once back, they enter the empty HQ, quieter than it’s ever been as Joker leads Harley to their room. 

“Take that shit off,” he orders her in reference to the prison attire she’d been forced to wear once again, motioning toward the closet, “put something decent on.” 

She immediately begins taking off the bright orange shirt, throwing it on the ground before she does the same to the matching bottoms. 

Just as she takes off the tank top, the older henchman from earlier walks into the room, “Boss, there have been sightings of the Bat…” he begins, then realizes his error when 

Harley squeaks and hides behind Joker, clad in only her bra and panties, though he can’t stop staring.

“What. The. FUCK,” Joker says, voice and eyes depicting a deadly undercurrent, “are you looking at?”

“N-nothing Joker, sir. I’m just delivering news in person like you said,” he responds, audibly gulping. 

“Harley, dear, how should we punish him for dropping in unannounced?” Joker asks, turning his head slightly to look at his girlfriend. 

“I say we put a smile on his face, Puddin’!” Harley decides, her own smile taking over her own features. 

“Oh baby, you’re the greatest!” Joker exclaims as he takes out his switchblade and stalks toward the older man, stuck to the spot in fear. 

“I’m not just gonna hurt ya—I’m gonna kill ya. But first? Let’s teach you some manners.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to see more of this pairing or this world, please let me know. I loved writing them! Thanks for reading and feel free to comment your opinions!!


End file.
